with Clearwater Park?”
“We'd been there before for cookouts when the boys were little.”
“So Ben had driven the roads around that area before.”
“Why do you ask?”
“If you were going to Clearwater Park from Civic Auditorium, you'd have to take some small roads and at night. If Ben wasn't familiar with the park, it would indicate to me that he was driven there by his abductors. If he knew the park well, maybe he was meeting someone.”
“We'd been there a few times.
That's all I can tell you.” She shrugged.
“The primary detectives interviewed scores of people, including quite a few students. What did you think of the detectives?”
“That's an odd question.”
Decker didn't respond.
“Arnie Lamar and Cal Vitton.” She smiled, but it lacked mirth. “I suppose they were nice enough; they just didn't get anywhere. It was always Arnie's contention that it was a carjacking. That didn't make sense to me.”
“How so?”
“First of all, Ben wasn't a fool. If someone wanted the car, he would have handed over the keys. The other option is that they stole the car and purposely put Ben in the trunk while they went on a joyride.” She made a face. “I don't see kids driving a stolen car with a dead man in the trunk.”
“There's a case in Hollywood right now that's similar to Ben's case: a body was discovered in the trunk of his Mercedes. Two teens are currently in custody.”
Melinda's hands flew to her mouth. “Do you think they're connected?”
“The boys that were arrested weren't even alive when Ben was murdered,” Decker said. “It's the boys' contention that they didn't know the body was in the trunk when they stole the car for a joyride. But that would be the logical thing to say. The victim's name was Primo Ekerling. Does the name sound familiar?”
She thought a moment. “No … no, not at all.”
“He was around forty. The papers listed him as an in de pen dent music producer and an entrepreneur.”
“That's L.A. speak for a slacker.”
“I must admit that nonspecific occupations tweak my antennas. But the case isn't mine, and Hollywood has plenty of well-trained homicide detectives. I'm sure they have their reasons for arresting the punks.”
“I'm sure they do.”
“Still, now that I've been assigned your husband's case, I'd like to know more about the Hollywood carjacking. If I'm going to get anywhere, I can't just cover old ground.”
“I agree.”
“I'm glad you do because there were people who were not interviewed the first time around that I'd like to talk to. Your sons, for instance.”
“My boys?” Melinda was taken aback. “They were just kids.”
“Kids have memories, Mrs. Warren. They see things, they hear things, they experience things. Oftentimes, they won't volunteer any information because that road has gotten them into trouble before. But many times if you ask them a question pointblank, they're not likely to lie. Your sons are adults now, so I don't need your permission to contact them. However, it would help if I had your cooperation.”
Her mouth frowned although her forehead remained smooth— Botox. “Let me call them up and get back to you. I'm sure they won't mind talking. Ten years of therapy has taught them how to talk to anyone.”
WHEN HOMICIDE DETECTIVES were a hair shy of a solve, the last thing they needed was a hotshot from some other substation messing around with their cases. Two similar felonies fifteen years apart did not a criminal pattern make, and while Decker had no intention of gumming up anyone's finely oiled conviction machine, he did feel it was incumbent to review the files of the recent Hollywood carjacking/homicide, just in case. To make the cold call to the detectives was an unpleasant prospect.
Lucky for him that he had an in, and that brought a smile to his face. He had done umpteen favors for his daughter and that was to be expected because he was the parent. This little assignment would give Cindy a chance to reciprocate
From the winding roads of Sunset, Decker hooked onto the 405 heading north into his home turf of the San Fernando Valley. Morning clouds had given way to full sun, necessitating air-conditioning. Although the car was old, it valiantly sputtered a stream of Freon-laden air, which felt good on Decker's sweaty face. He loosened his tie and waited for phone reception as the Vic chugged through the mountain pass. When he reached the top of the hill, he used his voice-activated earpiece to talk hands-free. Cindy picked up on the third ring.
“Are you busy?” he said without introduction.
“Just sitting down to a vegetarian club salad.”
Decker checked his watch. It was eleven-thirty. “Early lunch?”
“Joe's hungry and the timing works. What's up?”
“I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes. It would be helpful if you had some privacy.”
“Hold on.” Decker heard Cindy talking to her partner. Several moments later, she was back on the line. “Is everything okay?”
“Just fine. Did I make you nervous?”
“Of course you did. You never call me during working hours.”
“That's because the call is business. Sorry if I scared you. I need a favor, Cin.”
“A favor, huh?” A pause. “Well, now I know I've arrived.”
“Weren't you involved in the car recovery of the Primo Ekerling case?”
“Initially Joe and I were assigned to the case until we popped the trunk and discovered the body. Then it immediately went over to Homicide.”
“So the car was reported as stolen?”
“Yes, but the vehicle wasn't the main issue. Ekerling's girlfriend reported that he, along with the car, went missing. About a week later, a traffic officer was about to write a ticket on the Mercedes when he noticed that the car already had a ticket on the windshield. The car was parked on Prince right off Hollywood Boulevard.”
“That's a residential area, isn't it?”
“Yes, it is. The car was being ticketed because it was parked on the wrong side on a street cleaning day. The first ticket was for the same violation. The car had been sitting there for at least a week.”
“And no one called it in?”
“It was a brand-new Mercedes. I suppose it didn't
